


we dream in colors borrowed from the sea

by sincerelysamedt



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Childhood Marriage Proposal, Courting Rituals, Engagement, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Whale Island Proposal Rituals, but killua doesn't know it, childhood marriage promise, culturally-significant and -specific shows of affection, whale island
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sincerelysamedt/pseuds/sincerelysamedt
Summary: "It's for you." Gon says and before Killua can even  protest, the shell is dropped into his palms."Why are you giving me this?" It's too pretty to be held in Killua's hands. A killer's hands. If he startles badly enough, he could drop it. If he startles badly enough, his claws could come out and break it into pieces."Because it's for you. We give it to the people we want to stay with forever."Or, beachcombing on Whale Island.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 29
Kudos: 400





	we dream in colors borrowed from the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reeyachan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reeyachan/gifts), [Miah_Kat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miah_Kat/gifts).



> "We dream in colors borrowed from the sea." - Lindsay Greenberg

“Hey, Killua, let's go to the beach today!"

Killua looks up from his watermelon slice to Gon practically bouncing on his feet in front him, rind tossed into the compost heap, boots already on and tied and obviously ready to go. He bites into his fruit even slower, not looking away from the bright morning sunshine gleaming off of Gon's eyes.

The impatient pout Gon throws at him with a narrowed glare is absurdly amusing. He hides his smirk under the guise of wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and swallows a giggle as he ducks Gon's flailing arms.

"Killua! You're taking longer on purpose!" Gon whines, cheeks puffing out, and Killua almost chokes on watermelon seeds from how hard it makes him laugh.

In only a few months, he knows exactly how demanding Gon can get but he's been  _ especially  _ so for days, ever since that night on the cliff by the river. Killua knows he promised Gon that he'd stay with him until he found something he wanted to do for himself but the way Gon has been dragging him everywhere ever since has been a little overwhelming.

Not unwelcome, though.

The undivided attention is a warm little thing in his throat, Gon taking him by the wrist to all the nooks and crannies and corners of his first adventures with no doubt or question if Killua would follow.

"You never asked before." He says as he drops his own rind into the compost and washes his hands in the outdoor sink. Because Gon doesn't ask. He just assumes Killua will be right behind him and Killua isn't really inclined to prove him wrong.

Gon grabs his arm and pulls him down along the hill before he could even wipe his hands on his shorts.

"It's important, so of course I have to ask!" Gon yells and Killua would say  _ what's so important about the beach  _ but they almost trip because Gon refuses to let him go and telling Gon off for being dumb will always take precedence over anything else.

* * *

Whale Island is a stark reminder that the world is so much bigger than the mansion, than Kukuroo Mountain, than Padokea.

No matter how many times Killua sees it, the ocean at the edges of Whale Island will always look larger than anywhere else, stretching further and going deeper than the waters of shores across any of the continents. Waves play tag with crabs and starfishes on the sand and it's right here that Killua can believe that the sky is truly limitless.

Gon finally lets him go, turning once, twice, already barefooted and boots set aside then facing Killua, sunkissed and sun-adored on the beach of a fantasy. Of course, only Whale Island could raise such a boy.

"What do you want to do?" Killiua asks while he takes off his own shoes. The sand is warm and fine, nestling between his toes. Perfect for a sandcastle, if Gon's very important lessons on sandcastle-building are to be taken to heart. Maybe they can make it into a contest for who gets the last slice of Mito-san's chocolate tablea cake later after dinner.

He places his shoes beside the pile that is Gon's boots only to find Gon still staring at him, his mouth curled into a strange little smile that Killua has never seen, like he's satisfied but also like he's keeping a secret. It makes the back of his neck burn for some reason and Killua covers the vulnerable skin there instinctively. The sun never treated him as gently as it does Gon.

Gon grins something more familiar. Then runs off.

"Hey, Gon, where are you-"

"Wait for me right there! Don't go anywhere!" Gon calls out and disappears behind a grove of trees, leaving Killua to gape after him.

Irritation makes Killua's left eye twitch. He sighs. Well, he thinks as he sits closer to the water, Gon can help with the sandcastle when he gets back from… wherever.

* * *

He has the base of two walls up when he hears footsteps. They're lighter than Gon's ever could be. His fingernails sharpen in the sand.

"Killua? Is that you?"

He turns and sees one of the fish vendors, Kona, approaching him with a bundle of large palm leaves in her arms.

"Hello, Kona-san." He waves at her, retracting his claws.

He's met Kona-san and her wife, Leilani, a few times before, whenever he ran errands with Gon on the docks. She has a nice laugh, from what Killua remembers of her when Gon introduced him.

It rings clear now.

"What are you doing here?" She says, rearranging her load. "Are you lost? This isn't exactly a very populated area, you know?"

True enough, there aren't a lot of people on this patch of Whale Island. Come to think of it, Killua hasn't seen anybody since Gon left him until Kona-san arrived.

"No, I'm not. Am I not supposed to be here?" He says, standing up to dust the sand off of his hands. Whale Island is a tiny bustling hub of life but it isn't a metropolis even with all the ships coming to port, so Killua didn't even question why this spot is so secluded.

"Gon was the one who brought me here. I didn't know." He scratches his nose, a little embarrassed. He didn't mean to trespass, and while he doesn't usually care if he offends anyone, it feels wrong to do so here, to disrespect his best friend's home and neighbors.

Kona-san shakes her head quickly.

"Oh, no, no, it's all right." She assures him. "You said Gon brought you here?'

His brow furrows. There's something in her tone, in the twitch of her smile, that sets Killua on edge.

"Yes." He says slowly, watching the most minute changes in her body language. It isn't suspicion, per sé, that's sending Killua into overdrive but... there is definitely such a thing as healthy paranoia.

"Then he left?"

"Yeah. Didn't even tell me where he was going, just told me to stay put until he came back."

It's not that he thinks Kona-san is dangerous. She's a slight woman, most of her strength in calloused hands and knotted forearms, but otherwise meek-appearing and gentle in temperament based on the way she speaks to her wife as they man their stall.

Killua isn't sure what he expected but it's definitely not this: Kona-san smiling at him with the same strange little smile Gon did but somehow, somewhat… wistful. It's an expression he would expect from Leorio or Mito, like she knows something he doesn't and is pleased by the way things are playing out.

"Killua, did you know that the seashells around this part of the island are especially beautiful?" She asks and the randomness of the question throws him off.

"I didn't."

"Yes, the currents in this direction pass by some very interesting places and they wash up the prettiest things. My wife used to bring me here when we were younger."

He can imagine it. A younger, smaller Kona-san playing hide and seek with seagulls while Leilani-san chases after her. It must be a happy memory for her to have her talking about it so freely and openly to Killua, who is basically a stranger the village's golden boy took along with him. He wonders if he would look like Kona-san does right now, years in the future, reminiscing about sandcastles and crab tag and Gon, demanding and expectant, well-loved by the sun. If Gon would still be around.

Kona-san continues to smile at him, wistful and nostalgic and playful. Killua jolts.

"Right. Do you need any help with any of that?" He offers, pointing at the leaves. It's the polite thing to say, he supposes, and has nothing at all do with how his neck burns at being caught. Kona-san laughs it off.

"Oh, no, it's all right. Stay here and have fun."

That seems to be the end of it, Kona-san tucking her load more securely under her arm and waving goodbye.

But then she pauses and grins, like Gotoh used to when he told him the trick to his coin game when he was five.

"You should get Gon to tell you when he gets back." She says simply,  _ meaningfully, _ and walks away.

A wayward breeze topples one of the sandcastle's walls and Gon steps on the other.

"Killua! I'm sorry for making you wait so long!" Gon says, covered in the debris of a fallen palace. The pointed spikes of his hair matted down and tanned skin gleaming in the sun.

"Dumbass, did you go swimming without me? Where did you even go?"

At the very least Gon has enough shame to look a little contrite. He scratches his cheek, sand flaking off with each pass of his nail, the way he does when he's trying to be apologetic.

"I went to look for something."

Of course. Of course Gon would get so thoroughly distracted that he'd leave Killua in the literal dust to stare after him. Killua tries not to roll his eyes too far back, and settles for huffing.

"What were you looking for?" Killua still asks because he's just as curious as to what could make Gon vibrate and  _ glow  _ like he's doing right now.

"This!"

Something is shoved way too fast and way too close into his face, bumping against his nose. Killua almost swipes it away but he stops short when he gets a good look at it.

_ Kona-san was right. _

The shell between Gon's fingers is such a soft, creamy-looking white that it reminds Killua of vanilla frosting. It curves into itself, a delicate swirl, bright blue wisping against something shimmery like a sunbeam. Blunt spikes protrude from the shell's exterior, and the inside is rosy-pink like a flower.

It's like a little sky.

"That's cool."

"It's for you." Gon says and before Killua can even protest, the shell is dropped into his palms.

"Why are you giving me this?" It's too pretty to be held in Killua's hands. A killer's hands. If he startles badly enough, he could drop it. If he startles badly enough, his claws could come out and break it into pieces.

"Because it's for you. We give it to the people we want to stay with forever." Gon smiles at him, that same damned smile that Killua can't place because Gon has never smiled like that at anyone. Not at Kon when they visited him in the forest, not at Leilani when she gave him more dried fish than they had paid for, not at Leorio or Kurapika or even Mito-san. Gon's smiles are big and brilliant and so very warm but they have never, ever been so--

\-- small. Quiet. Gentle.

"What if I don't want it?"

The smile-- small and quiet and so very gentle-- vanishes into a near-inaudible gasp. Gon looks stricken, like Killua had hit him, and Killua feels like he has.

"Then you give it back to the ocean." Gon says, too carefully. "That's how we do it here."

Killua swallows.

"And if I don't want to give it back?"

"Then you keep it forever."

Simple, like most things are with Gon.

"I guess I can hang on to it for a little while." Killua says, closing his fist around the shell. It's sturdier than he expected. It looked so fragile.

This time, the smile that Gon gives him is infinitely wide, familiar but also somehow  _ more  _ than anything he's ever seen before. It's like  _ Killua  _ gave him something precious and wonderful, not the other way around.

"Hey, Killua?" Gon leans forward.

"W-What?" Killua leans away, clutching the shell like it would save him from stupid, incomprehensible best friends.

"This is a terrible sandcastle." Gon punctuates his observation by grabbing a handful of sand and letting it rain down on Killua's head.

"It was  _ fine  _ until you fell on it!"

"It's like you weren't even trying! I bet I can make a way better sandcastle than you."

"Oh, you are  _ on." _

* * *

"Killua, where did you get that?" Mito asks before she can stop herself. It's none of her business, she scolds herself. It's probably just a trinket bought at the docks where tourists get their souvenirs. After all, where could Killua possibly get-

"This?" Killua says, raising the shell in his hand. The swirling blue pattern on the surface melting into golden streaks is unique but unmistakable. She remembers, vividly, Abe's own seashell in a little wooden box lined with cotton, her only keepsake from their grandfather before he disappeared into the sea years ago.

"Gon gave it to me when we were down by the beach."

_ It's beautiful,  _ she wants to say and she has never wanted to hit her son and hug her son more than right now because  _ they're too young, it's so sudden, what was that boy even thinking? _

But she knows her son. That as sweet as he can be he is also, as with everything else he does that he is determined to see through, whether fishing for behemoths or swimming against tides or taking the Hunter exam; he is always, always  _ deliberate. Earnest. Stubborn. _

"It's beautiful." She tells him because it is. It is a very beautiful shell to propose with. The loveliest Mito has ever seen.

She's certain Killua will keep it safe.

**Author's Note:**

> beachcomber [noun]  
> ; someone who walks along beaches, looking for valuable or interesting things
> 
> @Miah_Kat for triggering this need for culturally-significant and -specific shows of affection. And @reeyachan for enabling me and freaking out over this with me. Reeyachi, you are amazing and Miah, you are such a galaxy-brained fool.
> 
> \- On Whale Island, people propose with seashells found on a particular strip of beach instead of rings. (Bcos really, why would islanders use metals that are most likely difficult to procure and rare to find? I picture the people of Whale Island to be quite practical but also very in touch with nature, so a personally-picked gift from the life-giving sea is more significant to them than a shiny rock.)
> 
> \- When a beloved rejects a proposal, they drop the shell back into the ocean. It's like letting a fish go or giving back their suitor's heart to sea. It's the kindest and most traditional way to reject someone.
> 
> \- You accept the proposal when you wear the shell. "Wedding rings" are sea glass broken into two and set into pendants for the pair to wear. 
> 
> \- In Padokea, they use bird feathers to propose. Each bird has a different meaning like flowers do.
> 
> You're welcome to visit me [@sincerelysamedt](https://mobile.twitter.com/sincerelysamedt) over on Twitter.


End file.
